Life's a Dance
by Diary
Summary: Neville and Luna have a philosophical conversation covering several different topics. Complete.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

"Hallo, Luna," Neville greets, being careful not to move as he looks up at the blur of dirty-blonde, cloud-like hair.

Suddenly, he finds himself staring into silver eyes. "Hello, Neville. You look as though you're in pain."

"No," he answers, knowing better than to shake his head. "As long as I'm very still, it doesn't hurt."

"Can I be of help?"

"Yeah, er, there's a numbing potion somewhere in my bag. It should say what it is on the label; I don't remember what colour it's supposed to be. If you could bring it over and pour it in my mouth, I'd appreciate it."

As she retrieves it and brings it to his lips, she comments, "I was talking to Hannah earlier, and she confided in me that she's afraid you've been working too hard. Have you seen any pink creatures resembling acts, recently? You shouldn't be alarmed if you have; they're very easy to get rid of. Dad's still trying to figure out if they have a name, or if we'll have the honour of bestowing one on them. I'm quite fond of 'peritwikles' myself."

"No, no pink ants," he answers, gingerly sitting up and trying to ignore the horrible taste clinging to his tongue. "I just have to make sure I pass the auror's exam, and Hannah isn't too happy with me for missing her dad's birthday."

"I don't think I would be, either," she responds, bluntly. "Families are very important; we know that better than many, don't we?"

"Oh, bloody hell," he mutters. "Luna- thank you for the numbing potion, and I'm grateful Hannah has a friend like you. But I really don't appreciate the lecture."

"You have a friend like me," she replies. "I don't dislike Hannah, but at the moment, she's not my friend. Do you want to talk about what's making you so unhappy?"

Sighing, he stands up. "I'm not unhappy, Luna. I'm stressed, but once I pass, things'll be better."

Not following his lead, she remarks, "It never happens, you know. You keep telling yourself things will be better once you achieve one more thing everyone thinks you need to achieve, and you're still unhappy."

Puzzled and very offended, he looks down. "What do you k-know about anything, Loony Lovegood? I'm glad you have everything figured out for you, but it doesn't work that way for some people."

Ignoring the guilt, he turns and starts to walk away.

"I saved your life during the battle, Neville Longbottom," she answers, calmly, stopping him. "You cut my food for me when I was too upset to stand the sight of a knife. I stood guard when you locked yourself in the loo and cried. You held my hand when I was waiting for permission to visit my father. For almost three years, we've had many conversations about a variety of topics. I know many things, and I know when you overwork yourself to the point of accidentally cursing yourself and do things such as miss your girlfriend's father's birthday party that you aren't just stressed. You're unhappy."

Wordlessly, he sinks to the floor. Not looking at her, he says, "I deserved that."

Finally, he looks up. "I'm sorry, Luna. That was rude and hateful."

She nods. "Hannah doesn't understand, and I'm not sure you do, either."

"McGonagall already gave me the speech about not pursuing being an auror just because my mum and dad were," he says, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "This doesn't have anything to do with them."

"What does it have to do with, then," she inquires, digging out her sketchbook and quill from her pocket.

"I dunno," he answers, caught off-guard. "It's a good job. It pays well, I'll be able to support my family when I get married, it'll make Gran dead proud of me. There are a lot of reasons."

"When will you being-"

"Luna," he grits out, "I'm not bloody Harry or Malfoy. Would you just stop with- Talk normally to me, yeah?"

She simply looks at him.

"Look, why does everyone think I have to go into Herbology to be happy? I love it, always have, but that doesn't mean I'll be miserable if I don't make a career out of it. I saved lives during the battle, Luna. You know, Miko Ling's brother, Tommy? Last week, he sent me an owl thanking me for tracking down the death eater who cast the killing curse on her and her raven. She'll never wake up, we all know that, but I helped give her and her family justice."

Blinking, she brings a finger up to her hair. "I suppose," she says, frowning thoughtfully, "we've been unfair."

"Yeah, you have," he answers. "I've changed. Before- I was just happy with plants and people occasionally paying attention to me. That's over, though, and I just don't believe that I'll be happy never making a real contribution. At most, I'll get lucky and make some medical breakthrough. Most likely, though, I'll spend all my life making notes of how plants grow or teaching children like Seamus, Harry, and Ron enough that they pass a few tests."

As soon as the words are out, he winces. That- hadn't been what he meant to say. He loves all three of them, and compared to the likes of Malfoy, any professor would be happy to have them. But some part of him still hasn't gotten over Seamus accidentally blowing up his favourite rose tree in first year or inadvertently setting fire to his project in fifth, never mind what Seamus managed to do to his own projects, and Harry and Ron never made it any secret how much they hated Herbology. Harry was okay with it, but the truth is, after third year, Ron would have failed if Neville hadn't stepped him to help him when Hermione, tired of his refusal to try to learn, had started refusing.

"I'm sorry," she says, startling him. "You've expressed your feelings very well."

Sliding the sketchbook over to him, she says, "Don't let your love of family change. Hannah lost her mum, Neville, and she's constantly afraid of losing her dad. We both understand that."

Sighing, he looks down at the sketch. Hannah's mum and dad holding Hannah's hand as she wore first year robes; his parents holding him when he was a baby; her as a tot, being twirled around by her mum as Xeno watched.

"I didn't mean to miss the dinner. I just don't like the way she implied I wasn't committed."

"You weren't," Luna replies. "Change that or dissolve the relationship."

Too tired to argue, he leans back, propping himself up on his elbows. "What's your biggest regret, Luna?"

"In sixth year, I fell in love," she answers, and he's momentarily surprised by how unfazed she is by the out-of-the-blue question. Then, he remembers exactly who he's talking. "And when the right moment came, I didn't say anything. I knew it was the right moment; the stars and the plants said so, and the air was full of blue mist, a sign of the delision giving their blessing to young love. More than that, sitting there, I could just feel it."

"Yeah," he says, interested. Sitting back up, he asks, "Who was it?"

"It would be awkward to say," she answers.

Unhappy with that answer but understanding why she might not be comfortable telling him, he shrugs and goes back to his former pose. "Why didn't you tell them?"

Closing her eyes, she answers, "All my life, I've tried to keep the cruel voices of others from influencing me. My mum once said, 'Young love brings forth the greatest confidence and the greatest insecurities a person can feel.' I was afraid of many things, and the voices in my head became cruel."

Aware he needs to be careful, Neville says, "Er- Look, I've never been in love, but it seems as if fancying someone makes you feel bad about yourself-"

"He didn't make me feel bad about myself," she answers, and Neville mentally files the use of the male pronoun. "Part of why I loved them so was that when I was with them, I felt great confidence and happiness in myself. They made me feel special. The problem was I let the insecurities when I was away overrule what I felt when I was with him."

"Do you still love this person? Maybe, you could tell them now."

"The moment has passed," she answers, a tone of finality in her airy voice.

"I'm sorry," he says, giving her a sympathetic smile.

"True love isn't selfish," she says. "It would rather be miserable and see its love happy than be happy while its love is miserable. I think a goblin said so, though it might have been a muggle philosopher."

"I don't know if I love Hannah," he blurts out.

"I imagine you don't want my advice," she says. "I'll listen, if you want."

Feeling a swell of affection for her, he scoots over, laying down with his hands under his head, side pressed against her knee. "I mean, of course, I love her. I just don't know if I'm in love her. And everyone has a different- I dunno. Ron and Hermione, Dean and Seamus, they say different things, and not everyone marries their best schoolmate. My gran claims to have never been in love, but everyone knows she and Bornuk are, even if they're both morons. Wouldn't do any good to talk to Mum and Dad, but everyone talks about how in love they were. They look happy in pictures, but that doesn't tell me what they were like with each other when no one was around."

"She's your first girlfriend," Luna says, reaching down to trace designs on his forehead. "Many couples have to figure these things out."

"I do want your advice."

For a long moment, she doesn't answer. Then, softly, she says, "I'm not sure if being in love is the same for everyone. No one could make Dad laugh like Mum could; whenever she smiled, I always knew if Dad was the cause. The world's never been very supportive of their intellectual pursuits, but they're what kept one another going. Ron and Hermione challenge one another and trust each other with their lives. Dean and Seamus complement one another to the point of not being able to function properly without the other. I suppose, in some ways, it's needing someone. For me, I saw a very kind person; that's what first attracted me. Their love of knowledge came in a different form than mine, but I admired that about them. In the end, though, during that perfect moment, I realised how happy and safe they made feel, that I wanted to share all I am with them."

"What if they didn't want to share all of them with you?"

"It didn't matter to me. They'd shared enough for me to know, even if they rejected me, they'd do it as gently as possible." Hovering over him, she stares into his eyes. "You have to figure out what type of love you want to be in, I suppose. Or what you being in love with entail."

"Don't think it works like that," he answers. "I mean, I reckon you might be onto something with being in love being different for different people, but I don't think it's something that they can choose."

"How do you imagine yourself in love, then?"

Miserably, he answers, "I'm not sure if I can. When I was younger, I fancied Hermione really bad. She was bloody intimidating, but she always made me feel good about myself. You know, she was one of the ones responsible for me getting really into Herbology? She wanted me to better, but it was different than what Gran and most of my professors wanted."

"Is it the same with Hannah?"

He considers the question.

"Fancying a housemate isn't the same thing as being in a relationship."

"Deflection," she replies, serenely, causing him to cough back a chuckle. "Hermione wanted you to be a better version of yourself. Is that what Hannah wants?"

Closing his eyes, he bats her hands away.

Luna's always had an uncomfortable way of making him face things, he knows. So, he isn't that surprised when the sinking answer of: **No**, pounds against his brain.

"I don't know," he answers. "It doesn't seem like it, sometimes, but- she's a good girlfriend."

"Dean was a good boyfriend to Ginny, and she was a good girlfriend to him; it doesn't mean they were right for each other."

"I trust you, Luna, but will you please promise not to talk to Hannah about what I'm about to say?"

"I promise."

"She always talks about how brave I am, and it used to feel so good. To finally have someone say that and to be able to b-believe it. Now, though, the war's over, and I want to be an auror, but if we get married and have children, I don't want to take the really risky assignments unless- There's always a risk-" He sighs, frustrated.

"During the war, we all took extreme risks because if we didn't, no one else would," she says, simply. "I think it's wonderful you want to try to always be there for your children."

"Yeah, well, what do I do if she's only with me because she expects me to always run around doing heroic things?"

"You have to decide," she answers. "If I were you, I'd tell Hannah all this. Relationships sometimes need to be fixed; most people don't consider that a sign of failure."

"And if it can't be fixed?"

"You and she have to decide if you want to stay in a broken one, then."

Sitting up, he groans slightly. "Thanks, Luna."

Nodding, she stands up and holds her hand out. "Mum used to say that life is akin to a dance; no one is born knowing everything to do, say, and avoid. Living a good life means to question things and make mistakes. I've never cared much for dancing; I imagine that's why my life is so different from many peoples."

Squeezing her hand, he smiles at her. "You're brilliant, Luna. You understand most people better than they understand themselves."

"I try to understand those who are kind to me," she answers as they walk out of the training room. "Whatever happens with Hannah, I wish you both the best."

They arrive at a fireplace, and he asks, curious, "Have you ever thought that the moment might be right for you, but it wasn't right for whoever you loved?"

Surprise crosses her face. "No," she answers, thoughtfully. "I hadn't."

"Look, I won't ask who it was again, but just tell me: Was he a good guy?"

"He's one of the best men I've ever known," she answers, promptly. "Perhaps, someday, I'll tell him. But right now, it's to leave the past in the past and focus on my present."

"Alright," he says. "I'll see you on Sunday."

"If-"

"No, Luna," he says, remembering the vicious green creatures in horror. "No matter what happens, our mission to capture that colony of zitapips stands. I'm still not happy about them destroying my butterfly cacti. The sooner we get them back to South Africa, the better."

"I'll bring the camera," she promises.

Leaning down, he kisses her cheek. "I love you, Luna."

"I love you, too," she answers.

He steps in the fireplace and floos to Hannah's.


End file.
